To enter and grow in the cavern of your mother’s belly where someone else’s bed still sits unmade, as they were torn from sleep and birthed into the world, screaming and clawing to get back inside their safe, calm, chamber.

Does her gut still shake from the echoes of your siblings screams?

Does the impression your older sister left in your mother’s womb feel welcoming or abandoned?

When it’s time to leave, you see from the struggle- the ripped and ruined cords and vessels that hang from the ceiling- that it won’t be peaceful.